The Heiress
by dafiish
Summary: Two years before attending Beacon Academy, Weiss has been training with weapon masters for eight years. Today she earns the right to her own sword and can truly be called a Schnee.
1. Chapter 1

At the balcony of her study, a wind would always blow. She stood there as loose strands of hair tickled her face. In that gossamer dress, the fifteen year old heiress felt as if she was the only person in this moment. It was pleasant to think that there was no one else watching and judging.

However, that was far from the truth.

The ceremony today, being as important as it was, warranted a soldier dressed in the traditional white of the Schnee family to stand at the door to the room to escort the Lady Weiss Schnee when it was time. He was just another one of those people who couldn't think for themselves. Their only purpose seemed to be to obey their master's call.

They were like dogs.

No, that is not quite correct. A dog could at least be called a companion. At least a dog was alive. These people were just puppets that danced at the twitch of their master's finger. They lived for nothing but to hear the praise that would ever so rarely fall from his mouth like honey that attracts flies.

Perhaps that is the only way they could justify their existence. That is the paradox of it. They are empty shells but perhaps the shells are the only semblance of life they have.

Weiss held no love for them.

Though one would be hard pressed to find someone who did enjoy their company, most people just did not seem to notice them. They would take about as much notice of the servants and soldiers as they would a brick in the castle walls. As long as they are all present, all is well with the world, but minds are suddenly alert when one is out of place.

Weiss, however, could not seem to just ignore them. She was always reminded of the eyes that were watching her.

This set in particular was relatively new. He had probably been in service for a little more than a year. Any less than that and the Master of Arms would have never assigned him the task of escorting the Lady Weiss Schnee to the ceremony. He was old enough to be noticed and young enough to still have fervor. Weiss could sense the man's tension. The clock was ticking closer and closer to noon, and Weiss knew that every movement of the minute hand was agony for him. He struggled with the urge to remain silent and speak to the Lady Weiss and gently remind her of the ceremony's time. She knew how desperately he wanted praise for escorting her punctually to the ceremony. She also knew that every moment she waited spelled doom for his chance at success.

Of course, such thoughts were nonsense. Weiss knew that there were five-hundred steps from her room at the top of the _Elfenbeinturm_ to the Great Hall. She was not so brainless as to be ignorant of her own pace. It would take her approximately fifteen minutes to walk there, even in these crystal slippers. Precision and accuracy were always expected of a Schnee. The Company would never have been formed if it were not so. Dust was ever so tricky to handle. With the amounts that Schnee engineers handled on a daily basis at one of the Company's processing facilities, one small miscalculation could lead to the destruction of everything within a radius of several kilometers. Of course, such an event could never occur. It should never occur. Else the Schnee Dust Company would soil its excellent reputation as the most profitable company in Vale.

But of course, the soldier did not think about anything like that. And soon, as Weiss predicted, he opened his foolish mouth to speak.

"My lady, we must-"

But Weiss interrupted him before he could insult her intelligence.

"Do you think I am without sense?"

The soldier was taken aback. He licked his lips nervously and slowly said, "Of course not, my fair Lady, you are the Lady Weiss-"

"That is correct. I am Weiss Schnee, daughter to Herr Kalder Schnee. When my father dies, I will inherit his place as the head of the Schnee Dust Company and all of its holdings. Are you suggesting, soldier, that I am not capable of knowing when to leave for the _Zeremonie der Schmiedens_?"

He looked positively aghast. "No! It was never my intention to offend! I was looking to protect my Lady's honor. It is my duty as a servant of the Schn-"

"Are you then suggesting that I am incapable of protecting my own standing? Do you think me weak, soldier?"

The poor soldier was starting to sweat as Weiss' glare started to bore through him. One wrong move or one small act of insolence could mean being stripped of all of his achievements and made to beg on the streets. Or even worse, losing his head. "I-, I never-, I-I-"

"Well, we cannot sit around here all day as much as I would wish it. I believe it's time to go, yes?"

With that, she briskly walked past him, leaving a faintly chill draft in her wake. The soldier stood stunned for a moment before coming to his senses and running to catch up.


	2. Chapter 2

_Zeremonie der Schmiedens. _The Forging Ceremony. This was the day she took the first step in becoming someone worthy of the Schnee name.

The ceremony took place over the course of the whole day. It began in the early days of the week with figuring out the logistics of the event such as what sort of food was served, how many servants would be necessary, and how to keep the budget in check. Of course, there was also the task of deciding who was to come. All such business was dutifully handled by the Head of the Schnee family. Members of the family were expected to know each and every person at the ceremony and greet them courteously.

The first half of the day was spent speaking to these invitees. They included prominent members of the Schnee Dust Company ranging from members of the board of directors to high level engineers who designed and were behind some of the recent technological advancements. Weiss was expected to speak to all of them and make a very good first impression. She had been trained to look for the cues one receives when talking to people. Most importantly, however, she had to know who exactly it was the she was speaking to, for it would not befit the future heiress to lack the knowledge of her future employees.

While the main branch of the Schnee Dust Company was located in the Mistral region where the kingdom of Vale was located, the Company actually has facilities in all four regions of Vytal, including Gregale, Libeccio, and Sirocco. Weiss knew that one day, she would be working with these people and leading the company. Of course, that would only be after her father, Kalder Schnee, resigns from his position.

Looking around as she entered the Great Hall, she picked him out almost immediately. It was not just because he was her father, but because he was the most striking person in the room. Dressed in a resplendent white suit with a blue sash across his chest, a golden aiguillette on his right shoulder, and a medallion of the Schnee crest on his chest, most people would describe Kalder Schnee as a very fierce looking man. His eyes were steel grey and often seemed to gleam with some knowledge privy only to him. His pure white hair, a quality shared by all Schnees, was neatly combed and his face was clean shaven save for the flaring side-whiskers on his angular cheeks.

Weiss knew better than to go near him. She knew that he would only treat her with contempt for appearing to talk to her father. What would he say? _"You are no longer an incapable child to hide from others. You are next in line for ownership of the Company. Someday, I will die from those bastards in the White Fang or from my own body's lack of strength. You will have to lead these people and set an example for them. A leader always does everything he asks from those he commands. You must be strong."_

She would have to endure another reprimanding about how dependent she would appear. And today was just not a day where Weiss cared to jump through such hoops. So, she walked forward to take a glass of wine imported from Sirocco. It was her favorite color, a deep red that seemed to envelop her eyes as she watched it in the glass. The light shining from one of the many tall glass windows in the Great Hall illuminated it, causing red shadows to spill over her dress. Weiss wrested her eyes from the luminous display as she felt someone approach.

As the day went on, Weiss went from person to person, appearing to be as clever and confident as everyone expected. They all congratulated her on having made it this far in her life. Weiss had to admit, amidst the tiresome procession, the ceremony itself was something she looked was looking forward to.

Once the talking was done, everyone stood on either side of the long red carpet laid along the center of the Hall. The board members took the front row while the rest of the guests took places behind them. As the noise subsided, everyone looked towards the large doors expectantly. Weiss stood near the front of the Great Hall, on the raised steps to the left. Her father stood on the right. Soon, there was a large silver casket carried by 8 men being brought into the Great Hall. Its name was _Amboss_, or Anvil. A simple name for a revered relic of the past. It was over one-hundred and fifty years old, being made by one of the first Schnee during the dark times of the Grimm Wars, long before the struggles with the Faunus and long before the founding of the Schnee Dust Company. Inside, there was a pool of silver liquid called _Immerstark_ that was surrounded by white fire. The fire was ignited with the help of white Dust, and it was never permitted to be put out. From this pool, new members of the Schnee family who had passed their eight years of weapons training would receive their sword.

Initiates were expected to cut their finger and spill their blood into the pool. From this, the _Immerstark_ was then taken and forged into a blade. This way, the sword that was given was, quite literally, an extension of one's body since it bears a piece of the wielder's soul.

Weiss looked at the casket as it was brought in and could barely control her emotions. This was the day she had dreamed about for a long time. Ever since she was a little girl, she had seen the tall portraits of previous heads of the Schnee family that hung around the castle. In every portrait, at each leader's side, there hung a gleaming silver sword. Its form varied over the course of the centuries. Weiss would be the second one to receive the newly developed Multi-Action Dust Rapier after her father. But that sword was theirs and theirs alone. It was essentially another form of their identity. Their soul made into steel. And Weiss longed to have one in her hands.

Soon the casket was set before her and opened. Weiss felt the pores on her skin open as the heat from the fires enveloped her. She couldn't help but stare into the silver well of _Immerstark _encased in fire. A blade was brought to her and, fully aware that her father and everyone else were watching, she cut her finger with one deft motion and spilled her blood into the silver pot. Eight drops was the customary number to represent the number of years spent training, but as the last drop fell, Weiss felt the urge to let loose just one more drop. She knew that every drop of blood added meant a deeper connection to her weapon, and she was also aware that she had no right to release more blood. But Weiss would not settle for the standard weapon. This sword was to be hers and hers alone.


End file.
